What Would You Tell Us?

If you could talk, what would you tell us?
About the day that they punched the highway past Powell
And about the people who came there and stayed in those cabins
Built so long ago

What would you tell us about the river
And what used to come and what no longer does
What would you tell us about the Nee-Me-Poo
Who may have come by you
On their way out of this country

If I could core you, how old would I find you to be?
Those fire scars
They tell me that you have been through a lot

Your bark is thick
And the flickers and pileateds have dug at your base
To get those bugs
That are still trying to kill you

If you could talk what would you tell us?
about the men and women who came and stayed in these places
And the calk boots
And the fist fights
And the drinkin’
And the fires
And the music

And the young people who learned how to use a saw
Chain or crosscut
And an axe
And find their way in the wilderness

— Sandy Compton

Adventures with Jeeper the Compass (An R-rated version)

In the past three days, I have tested Jeeper mightily. Sunday, I drove over Vermillion Pass (elevation 6050), the last half mile before the summit being a nasty stretch of frozen slush with ruts. It was one of those places that inculcates spontaneous prayer. Verbalized. And, bad, bad words. Two

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A few thoughts on five days in sandals.

A shower of sand fell from my pack as I emptied it today. The stuff is whiteish, with gray and tan highlights. In my mind, there’s a big mystery about the color. Why is it almost white when near all the stone surrounding it is some permutation of black? The

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A few thoughts on writing for free.

After 61 days away traveling the West, with ten days on Maui thrown into the middle, it’s good to be home. I drove 7,434.8 miles, took way too many pictures, played golf, skied, ate out my cooler, camped out, stayed with friends and stayed within budget. It was a good

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